Lack of Control
by Sull89
Summary: One shot. The thing is, he can't control his dreams. EdWin


It was his own personal nightmare; the one that plagued him every night.

No, it was more than that. In all honesty, it was the version of hell reserved specially for him. The vision he couldn't escape, no matter how he longed to.

He couldn't banish his thoughts after all; those nighttime fears that chose to haunt him every minute they could were controlled by no one but themselves.

It was the violence. The violence and the explosions, along with the other sights, sounds, and smells, were the things that kept him awake at night. The blood, though, was the worst of it. These were the things that assaulted him, forcing their way into his mind regardless of the fact he tried his best to keep them at bay.

The daylight was different. He had full control over his brain then; he knew the way of the world and his place in it. His childhood failure and stint in the military had taught him that and he knew it well. Wars in Ishbal, those _apparently_ being waged against the so-called homunculus… he was aware of those and he knew who they affected and how.

Night brought on a whole new scenario though; after all, no one ever said dreams flowed within the realm of rational thought. It was then that the bombs, the tanks, and the alchemy ripped through his hometown, destroying every single person in residence. Cleaving them to shreds as most of the people around him, those helping him to create this ruin, _laughed_.

Fire ran through the town square, one man with his fingers poised out in front of him behind it all, ready in an instant to create more. There were more like him, too, people with a singular purpose; to annihilate. There was one with arms spread wide, embracing his acts, as another building exploded. Another, much larger man, was the cause of a clang that would echo through the air, followed almost immediately by a flash of yellow light and huge stone spikes that hurdled through the air and impaled anyone unlucky enough to be in the way.

It wasn't just alchemists who littered the scene, but regular soldiers as well. The one blond was unmistakable, her dual pistols carving a steady swath through the civilians around her. She wasn't alone of course, her comrades spread out around her dealing with the _enemy_ in their own way.

Resembool was systematically being wiped off the map as everything that made the town, from its people to the landmarks, even the railway, was all ruined.

The worst of it all though, that part that made him quiver in self-loathing, was the fact that above it all rose an eerie blue light, arching from the ground upward and then back down almost like lightening. It was as though it shattered on impact without showing any physical signs of a weapon, but it killed just as well, if not better than, any of the other methods.

This odd colored light emanated from one human, and a small one at that. A boy by anyone's guess, no way possible he could be out of his teens. But he stood among the adults all the same, acting as one and taking part as one. Creating havoc just like the rest of them, killing the same innocents for the same reason.

Which, if you were to ask most people, was no _reason_ at all.

He killed for that though, his alchemy tearing through body after body of people he_knew_. The people that raised him as their own, as people in such small communities do. His friends, the ones he had grow up with and learned about the world with in tandem… they died at his hand too.

Every drop of blood, every splattered soul… they all tore a part of him as well. The familiar faces, the memorable places, they weren't the only things being broken down now. He couldn't stop though, couldn't hide his face and will all this carnage away, he _couldn't_ do it.

With the help of his comrades in arms, the poor young boy murdered just one more part of his past.

Bearing down on the last remaining house in the village, the yellow one cresting a hill, from which the burnt remains of another home could be seen, the boy was taken aback, stopped in his tracks by something he knew was stronger than any State hammer. The sights here brought tears to his eyes, but not because he felt bad for himself.

A young woman stood on the porch of that home, arms crossed and a wrench wrapped in one trembling hand. A keening wail pitched from her throat, lending to the wind a disconcerting cant as the tears flew rapidly from her eyes.

The body of a small, short woman lay crumpled at the bottom of the steps, her figure bent and broken. Above, a gap in the whitewashed railing that surrounded an upper balcony loomed over them all, an ominous suggestion. What looked like a rain of bullet casings surrounded her though; the fall wasn't the _only_ thing that took her life.

Something propelled him forward, rushing him onward toward that girl, calling out to him to finish the job. Panicking, doing everything he could to get away, to stop himself from doing what he knew was expected of him, the boy flailed, twisting and turning to break free from the invisible grip holding him.

It was all to no avail though, he hadn't managed to escape in time. With shaking, shining eyes, he watched in horror as an arm, his own arm, came up, a blade extending from his right wrist. Another sinister, sadistic laugh sounded behind him as that same entity shoved him forward now and he slammed his eyes shut, determined to convince himself it wasn't going to happen.

His blade bit into soft flesh, muscle and bone, rupturing blood vessels and tearing tissue. Warmth splattered across his face, flicking across his nose and lips. The fact that his eyes were closed no longer mattered now; he could see what he had just done in his mind.

Killed her… tore her apart with his _own_ hands.

--

Waking with a start, covered in a cold sweat that chilled him to the bone, Edward Elric swore to himself over and over again that he would never, ever become a military dog. Nothing would happen to those he cared for.

Not as long as he could still breathe.

* * *

Review please.  
-Sull 


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